Chain Links
by Icon
Summary: Telling a story that came between Sanctuary and Asgard, about a scene we never saw, and a bit more besides...
1. Chain Links

CHAIN LINKS  
  
A fanfic based on the world and characters of "Saint Seiya", created by and Â© Masami Kurumada. All rights to those characters are Â© Masami Kurumada, Toei Animation and probably a whole bunch of other people. Their use in this piece does not imply endorsement, approval or permission.  
  
This story is set sometime between Sanctuary and the start of Asgard, about the only downtime from the start of Sanctuary to the end of Poseidon. I have taken the liberty of permitting Shun to use his second cloth before it's official debut, but I've minimised that as much as I could within the confines of the plot.  
  
I couldn't think of a way around it, sorry to purists, call it an OAV if it makes you feel better, we all know how easily they fit into continuity. I've also used Albior rather than Daedalus (It was a coin toss, as the Cepheus Saint is dead either way it doesn't matter that much). Anyway, enjoy...  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Chapter 1 â€" Chain Links  
  
Shun stood on the deck of the boat and watched the Island come into view. At least the map bearings said it was the Island of Andromeda, but it looked very different from the last time he'd seen it from this angle. One whole side of the cliffs had fallen into the sea, the once extinct volcano's crater was smoking, and what little greenery there had been on the mountain had been wiped away like chalk off a blackboard.  
  
He whirled at the sound of a soft footfall behind him, sunlight shining off armour making him reflexively reach for the chains on his wrists, then he smiled as he remembered his cloth was in it's chest beside him. "A little jumpy still?" The voice was quiet and amused.  
  
Shun allowed himself a rueful smile in return, "Can you blame me, June?"  
  
The Chameleon Saint was in full armour, her whip coiled at her waist. "Not really, a little paranoia is good for a Saint, no matter how many Gold Saints they may have bested. How are you feeling?". She put her arm around his shoulder, her face may have been hidden behind a mask, but he knew her well enough to feel the genuine concern.  
  
The smile combined with a puzzled frown... "You tell me? Happy, regretful, scared, determined. I'm just my usual cute little bunch of self- contradictions. The only reason I ever wanted to come back to this place was to see Albior and you, but I didn't think it would be like this. I don't want to have to face this, but I know it's the right thing to do."  
  
"I know what you mean, but I'm still not comfortable about HIM coming."  
  
"Saori asked him to come, she felt it was appropriate."  
  
He recalled the day of that particular meeting...  
  
- - - - - - - -  
  
They'd been out of hospital for a couple of days, and none of his fellow Saints had been in particularly conversational mood, not even his brother, though there had been a lot of meaningful silences in each others company. Talk would come, but not straightaway, too much had happened too quickly.  
  
It had been Saori's idea for everyone to have a period of personal down- time; Shiryu had gone to visit Dhoko and ShunRei, Hyoga was out in Siberia somewhere doing his isolated loner bit, Seiya was spending some time with Miho and the kids at the orphanage. Ikki had done one of his vanishing acts, though, as always, he'd promised to return at a seconds notice should Shun or Saori need him.  
  
They all had a lot of emotions to work through. But Shun had another matter to deal with, one that had been nagging at him since before they'd even left for Sanctuary. Saori had called him in to discuss it, but the conversation had not started well.  
  
"No Saori-san, I won't do it."  
  
The forceful tone obviously surprised Saori, which wasn't surprising at it surprised Shun too.  
  
"Shun, I know that this is a lot to ask of you, but.."  
  
"Saori, in battle there is nothing I wouldn't do for you, dammit you know that! This is a personal matter, and what I say goes!"  
  
"Shun, you are the single most compassionate person I have ever met, and the most forgiving, I know this must be difficult for you, but please listen"  
  
"Now, I could order you to obey me as the incarnation of Athena you have sworn to obey, whether in battle or not, but I won't. I respect you far too much for that, but I am asking you as a friend to think about what I am saying."  
  
"Do you honestly believe for one moment that I would ask you to do something that I thought would harm you? I'd sooner die than cause any of you pain, you know that. This will benefit you, I promise you. What sort of an incarnation of the goddess of Wisdom and War would I be if I went around make bad judgement calls?". She risked a smile, "I'm not allowed to make mistakes like that, it's in my contract."  
  
With an internal sigh of relief she saw Shun's frown lessen, this had been tougher than she had thought, though she could see his point, from one point of view. Actually she realised, she saw everything from every point of view and weigh them all up at the same time. That's what wisdom was as far as she could tell. Pondering which part of her personae THAT had come from, the spirit of Athena or a half remembered Readers Digest article, she turned her full attention to Shun again.  
  
"Saori-san, when you phrase it like that it's hard to say no to you. I will do it, I sure as hell won't like it, but I will do it. I just wish it was anyone else but him."  
  
"He has matters to deal with too, Shun, he was misled and his honour was sullied, he must make amends. I have ordered him to." She stressed the word to emphasise the difference in standing she accorded them.  
  
"I just don't want to be the one to tell June about this. She'll go ballistic!"  
  
"Hey, that's why I'm the goddess, I get all the fun jobs."  
  
- - - - - - - -  
  
"So we have arrived, it's been a while since I was here last and I can't say I had expected to see it again so soon."  
  
Shun and June both turned at the deep, rich voice behind them.  
  
The speaker was tall, with long purple hair falling almost to his waist, and dressed tastefully and expensively in a summer-weight suit, which didn't even seemed wrinkled by the cloth chest he carried on his back. Milo, Gold Scorpio Saint, was an imposing figure in or out of armour. Shun was grateful he wasn't in full armour, June might have perceived that as deliberately offensive.  
  
"Yes, Milo-san", June's use of the honorific was almost insulting, "We return to the scene of your great battle." Shun elbowed her in the ribs as he leant down to pit on his cloth chest. Milo said nothing and all three turned to look at the island again, an uncomfortable silence between them.  
  
Even after a week with him on a boat Shun still didn't know what to make of Milo. He was certainly not what he had expected of the assassin of the Gold Saints, who had been a whispered legend to them till only a few weeks ago.  
  
Milo had actually proved to be charming company; intelligent, literate, coversant on a wide range of topics and even a good cook, as he had demonstrated on the boat. But he was always preoccupied, and Shun had noticed that his eyes often shifted into what he had dubbed "scanning mode", surveying his surroundings for entrances and exits, weapons and obstacles, assessing everyone around him as possible opponents. It was obviously the trademark of his vocation; an automatic assumption of danger.  
  
The boats crew ate his food and laughed at his jokes, but didn't like to spend time around him. June refused to even take meals with him. Shun had forced himself to spend time with him, as Saori had requested, and found himself more confused than ever.  
  
The boat came around the ruined remains of a jetty just as the sun was setting. Two figures were at the head of a small group standing there, and Shun recognised them immediately.  
  
"Spica and Reda? They returned here?"  
  
June nodded, "All the pupils who survived elected to remain here for the present. Where else did they have to go?"  
  
Shun had to agree, but was less than happy that the two were wearing their self-styled Cloths. They had no ranking in the Saints of Athena, manifested no cosmo and appeared to have made their cloths themselves, twisted versions of the Andromeda Cloth they had sought, and failed, to win.  
  
Spica called out to the boat; "Who approaches the Isle of Andromeda? State now thy name and purpose". The Greek dialect was old and stiffly formal, clearly a long standing tradition.  
  
June, almost against her will, turned to Milo, who as ranking Saint, had the right to be identified first. He shook his head and gestured for her to take the lead. She called out to the shore "June, Bronze Chameleon Saint, to honour her Master."  
  
"You are welcomed to the Isle, Chameleon Saint. Advance and strengthen the links of the Chain."  
  
Shun stood forward. "Shun, Bronze Andromeda Saint, to honour his Master and pay final respects".  
  
Spica and Reda at least had the courtesy to looked embarrassed, the last time they had met they had attempted to kill Shun, but Spica repeated the formal welcome, though Reda rubbed self consciously at a half healed scar on his cheek.  
  
Both June and Shun leapt easily to the shore.  
  
Mile stood forward, "Milo, Gold Scorpio Saint. To repay a debt of honour to a fallen comrade who was ill done by."  
  
The small group on the shore looked stunned and Shun realised they had never seen the Saint out of armour, and without a developed Seventh Sense, they wouldn't recognise his cosmo signature.  
  
"Murderer! Leave this.." Spica's angry shout was halted by the crack of a whip which darted across his chest and knocked him off his feet. June faced him and her voice was flat and cold with a dangerous edge to it.  
  
"Such a decision is not yours to make, Spica. As soon as I set foot on this island I resumed my  
  
role as second to Albior. And I have not forgotten YOUR treachery."  
  
Spica just glowered, but made no move to contradict her.  
  
She faced the boat again "You are welcomed to the Isle, Milo. Join us by your own choice."  
  
Shun frowned, that wasn't the standard response, no mention had been made of the Chain, but he said nothing. He also realised that he now technically out-ranked June, but felt it better to say nothing at the moment.  
  
Milo landed lightly on the jetty. Spica and Reda stared at him in mute horror. No one said anything.  
  
One more poisonous silence like this and I'll start screaming just to give myself something to listen to, thought Shun.  
  
June spoke first, "Quarters will be prepared for you Milo. Shun, I thought you'd like your old hut, it's more or less still standing following..." She sent the sentence trail off. "If its all the same June, where is Albior? I'd like to pay my respects tonight, if I may."  
  
"Of course. We buried him on the mountainside, you remember, the place he liked to meditate? It seemed appropriate and was relatively undamaged."  
  
Shun set off, and as he left he could just make out Milo trying for conversation "An interesting greeting your... associate gave, what is its origin..?"  
  
- - - - - - - -  
  
Shun arrived at Albiors grave shortly afterwards. The space was a natural clearing, or had been when there had been trees left standing. The grave was simple, and his cloth chest was placed at the head, just behind a plain stone marker engraved with the words; Albior Silver Cepheus Saint 'The Chain shall be unbroken' He unstrapped his cloth chest and knelt beside the grave. He had fasted all day in preparation for the night ahead.  
  
He could have demonstrated his powers as a sign of respect, but it would have seemed like showing off. He didn't even plan to wear his armour, Albior had known him longer as Shun than as the Andromeda Saint, so normal clothes seemed more suitable, black trousers with a dark blue shirt and black string tie were enough. What mattered was the spirit of the thing.  
  
He had read of an ancient samurai tradition of a warrior holding his sword at arms length from dusk till dawn as a sign of fealty. The concept appealed to him, but he would add his own twist to it. He reached into his Cloth chest and pulled out the round-tipped chain of defence. Attaching the shackle to his wrist he knelt and held his arms straight out, with the chain resting on his upturned palms, the length hanging between his hands. He shortened the chain to a more manageable length, sending the remainder to the elsewhere dimension where his chains stayed until summoned.  
  
He held his head high and started reciting a prayer to the dead, but in the end found silence more fitting to his mood, not an uncomfortable silence, but a comfortable peace, the only sound being the waves breaking on the cliffs.  
  
He remembered his Master as a stern man, an unforgiving man, but one who had encouraged and brought out the best in him, who hadn't given up on the "weak link" Reda and the others had mocked, but who had made him stand up for his own beliefs, no matter what the cost.  
  
How long he knelt there would have been hard to tell, the moon was high in the sky. Freezing cold winds blew off the sea, but he didn't shiver, he was too used to the temperature for that. His arms ached, but that was as it should be.  
  
After a time he suddenly became aware of a sound and felt a faint stirring of a cosmo he knew he should recognise. Both sensations came from beside the grave and, opening his eyes, Shun was astonished at what he saw. The Cepeheus Cloth in its representational form was emerging from it's chest, glowing with a faint blue light.  
  
Even more surprising was that his Cloth was doing the same, it's gleaming new appearance catching the moonlight. He hadn't even worn it yet, so his mental link to it was not fully re-established, though he could always hear it in the back of his mind.  
  
Mu had promised the Bronze Saints that their cloths would be better than ever, as the surviving Gold Saints had contributed their cosmo enhanced blood to the reforging. Seiya and Shiryu had tried theirs on and appeared to be well pleased with the result, but Shun had sworn to himself that the Andromeda Saint would never wear his cloth without just cause and as yet, thankfully, nothing had come up.  
  
He watched in awe as the glow around his cloth and the Cepheus cloth intensified. The chains were stirring, but the breeze was blowing in the other direction. A faint chiming could be heard echoing between the cloths, a subtle variation on the sound heard in Sanctuary when all twelve Gold Cloths had resonated with each other.  
  
The chains from both cloths were extending, sliding across the grave towards each other, and Shuns Seventh Sense could detect a context that could only be described as "emotion" if it were applied to living things.  
  
The chains met and the tips wrapped round each other. Shun could feel a contact taking place on the edge of his Seventh Sense, of a sort he had never felt before, but he could feel tears welling up in his eyes from the broadcast emotion.  
  
He recalled the myth; Cepheus, a king torn by the actions of his vain wife Cassiopeia to offer his daughter up as a sacrifice or face the destruction of his kingdom, bound by chains of duty. Andromeda, his daughter who had been prepared to offer up her life in chains for the sake of her father and her people. The love between these two had been boundless and it seemed a portion of that love was reflected through the cloths that bore their name.  
  
He felt the chain in his hand move too, the free end extending, rippling slightly as it pulled more length from elsewhere, touching the other chains where they met. The glow sped up the chain and into Shun, making him part of the circuit, a link in the a chain that spanned more than two thousand years.  
  
For a moment he felt, directly, the fierceness of the love between father and daughter and the almost physical shock drove the breath from his body. He loved his friends and Saori, his bond to Ikki was even stronger, but this transcended that by orders of magnitude. This love had endured for millenia without interruption.  
  
And through it all he felt other emotions, fragments of previous Cepheus and Andromeda Saints, slivers of himself in many ways. Not memories or thoughts, but feelings and emotions. Gradually fragments of another personality manifested itself through the link, Albior.  
  
He felt that which he had long suspected, the love that Albior had felt for him but never spoken of, the pride he felt in Shun, for his strength of will in not giving in to violence and the respect for the vast power that lay within him.  
  
He felt the respect that Albior had had even for Milo, a worthy opponent, it would have been a fitting end for a Saint, if the circumstances had not been contaminated with treachery. But Albiors spirit did not hold this against Milo, who had been bound by duty as much as any Saint, he had believed the Kyoko's words and acted accordingly, no less could be expected of a Gold Saint.  
  
As an orphan Shun had never known what paternal love could feel like, and this near-sensation both delighted him and filled him with sorrow that he would never truly experience it again.  
  
Desperate not to waste this chance, Shun fed back his love and respect for Albior into the glow, he fed back the memories of the deeds he had performed for Athena as the Andromeda Saint, the battles fought and the lives saved. Above all he fed back the knowledge that Athena had been saved and that Albior had had justice, his real killer, Aphrodite the treacherous Pisces Saint, had been defeated by Shun himself.  
  
His feelings were tiny compared to the raw emotion flowing through the metal of the cloths, but he felt their acceptance by whatever part of Albior lived on in his cloth.  
  
The glow faded and the chains fell back, inanimate once more.  
  
Shun blinked, trying to put together everything he had felt into a coherent picture, but knowing that too much was involved for a mortal to fully comprehend. He had touched the souls of two beings who had been immortalised in the stars.  
  
But he knew that he had done right by his Master, and that was sufficient. The feeling of well-being that filled him left him more at peace than he had felt since his brother had been restored to sanity and returned to him, months before.  
  
Sunrise was coming. He returned the cloths to their chests, taking special care with the Cepheus cloth.  
  
He left the clearing, knowing that there was nothing more that could be done here, knowing that there was nothing more that needed to be done. He set out for the huts.  
  
He did puzzle over one feeling as he left, a sense of loss that both cloths had projected, a slight sense of incompleteness. It was only as he approached the huts that he realised what it might be... Albior had never told him what had happened to the Cassiopeia Cloth in this cycle of incarnations. This might be worth further investigation, when time allowed.  
  
His Seventh Sense picked up cosmo manifesting up ahead, he knew both signatures immediately and started running.  
  
From a cavern at the base of the cliff behind the clearing, whose entrance was concealed from all but the minutest examination, a figure emerged silently and watched Shun leave. Crimson coloured metal armour reflected the first rays of sunlight. Tears fell from the figures face onto a looking glass in its hand, a looking glass like a vain woman might carry... 


	2. Links to the Past

June watched Shun leave to start his vigil, barely listening to Milo standing beside her.  
  
"An interesting greeting your.. associate gave, what is its origin..?"  
  
She turned her attention to him. They had left Reda, Spica and the others behind as they walked to the huts. Both could hear the whispers behind them but chose to ignore them.  
  
"Albior taught us all that are links in a great chain, united in defence of Athena, each added link gives strength to all, a weak link can break the whole chain. "  
  
"Elegantly phrased, I have heard similar sentiments from other Saints, but few so succinctly."  
  
"Albior was always like that. Do Gold Saints not see their duty in that light?"  
  
"Our position is rather more.. isolated.. than that of Bronze or Silver Saints. Few Gold Saints would fight side by side. The release of power would be quite capable of sundering the world."  
  
There was something about the matter of fact way he said it that chilled June, particularly in light of what she knew she had to do.  
  
She straightened and faced him, taking a deep breath before reciting the formal words.  
  
"Milo Gold Scorpio Saint, listen to my words. A weak link in the chain is unacceptable and must be tempered in fire. I would be remiss in my duties as a pupil of the Cepehus Saint if I did not do this. I June, Bronze Chameleon Saint, challenge you to single combat."  
  
"No sneak attack this time, Milo, this will be straightforward one to one combat at dawn, and let justice prevail."  
  
Milo's face was hard as stone, "I wondered when this might happen, and I regret it deeply. I ask you to reconsider your position, I have never been defeated in combat. You may retract without loss of honour, to you or your Master."  
  
"My thanks for the offer, but that is unacceptable. We will meet at the training grounds at sunrise. It is just to the west of here."  
  
Milo didn't even pause, but June took a little consolation in the fact he didn't sound happy about the situation.  
  
"As you wish. Do you require a second in this duel? I am sure Shun would oblige if you asked him."  
  
"I require no second, I deliberately waited until Shun was not present. My fight is with you and you alone and I do not wish him to become involved in this."  
  
"And if I fight and kill you, do you not think he will become involved?"  
  
"You make assumptions Milo, I might win our battle."  
  
"Perhaps, and perhaps the sun will not rise tomorrow, but I would not wager on that outcome. I am a Gold Saint and you are but a Bronze."  
  
"Didn't you say something similar to Hyoga?"  
  
"Though he did not actually defeat me, that was a rather special case; Athena's Chosen are on a totally different power curve to any previous Saint. Believe me when I say that no one is more surprised by their puissance than the Gold Saints. We find it.. intriguing."  
  
"All the same, maybe I am on that curve too. Maybe this is a part of the development of all the Bronze Saints in this era."  
  
"Perhaps it is as you say, it will be interesting to see."  
  
June found it hard to believe that within moments of accepting a challengeÂ  they were engaged in a discussion on the physics of cosmo manipulation. The Scorpio Saint was strange that way, combat and death was such a part of his life he didn't waste excess energy on it.  
  
"Until then, we will prepare. Sybil will show you to the quarters prepared for you, and take you to challenge ground in the morning." She gestured and one of the other students, who had been waiting nearby, came forward and led Milo away.  
  
- - - - -  
  
June unpacked her few belongings in what remained of her old quarters. She had been fortunate, only two of the walls had been destroyed and the roof was nearly intact.  
  
As she removed the few Clothes and trinkets she taken with her she came across the gift Shun had given her; a brown, wide-brimmed hat.  
  
Seiya had dragged Hyoga and Shun to the movies one night in an attempt to cheer themselves up (Shiryu having left to get his and Seiya's Cloths repaired). It turned out to be a Japanese dub of "Raiders of the Lost Ark". They'd enjoyed it, but Hyoga and Seiya were puzzled by Shun's uncontrollable fits of giggles during Indiana Jones' whip-wielding scenes. He'd explained about June, and what she'd have thought of his rather amateurish technique.  
  
He had rented the video to show her after the Sanctuary Battle, and had given her an Indiana Jones-style hat afterwards as a sign that he didn't hold her actions against her. She accepted with good grace and didn't even mind, at first, when he kept calling her Indiana June, even though it made her inwardly wince each time. After three days, she had gently told him that if he ever used the term again, she would break his arms, Chains of Andromeda or no. He'd looked crestfallen for a minute, but she hadn't been able to keep a straight face, even behind her mask, Shun was so easy to tease. He had got the hint though.  
  
She held the hat for a long time before storing it with the rest of her possessions. She had a lot to do to prepare for the morning. With that thought in mind she left the shack that had been her home for over six years, possibly for the last time.  
  
- - - - -  
  
She stood in the middle of a natural arena in one of the island's few sheltered spots. Though the sky was dark, there were torches around the edges. Not that she really needed them, one of the advantages of being the Chameleon Saint was her exceptional eyesight. It had always been good, but now, both in terms of clarity and sensitivity it was superb. Though she lacked the independent eyes of her namesake, she had an angle of vision well over 180 degrees, making it almost impossible to sneak up on her.  
  
Knowing that sleep would be pointless attempt, she moved through her focusing exercises. These were a series of kata that Albior had shown her soon after her arrival on the Island, elegant movements that kept her muscle control finely tuned. And as she relaxed, moving through the graceful steps, she let her mind slip back to Albior and her arrival on the Isle of Andromeda...  
  
She had never understood why her father had sent her away after her mother had died. She wanted to be near him so much, but she could see the hurt in his eyes every time he looked at her. She knew he loved her, but that he had loved her mother more. It was a sobering realisation for a seven year old that her father blamed her for surviving the car crash that had killed his wife.  
  
She took to making herself as inconspicuous as possible, fading into the background so she wouldn't upset him. She became very good at it.  
  
Even at school she was always the one at the back of the crowd, the last picked for games, the quiet one no one felt too comfortable around, yet she was not really shy or retiring, just.. uninterested. She also got something of a reputation the day that she saw two larger boys picking on a much younger kid. Without saying a word she had simply walked up to them and punched one in the face, breaking his nose, and knocking the other clean off his feet with a sweeping side-kick to his stomach. After that, and still silent, she had simply walked away.  
  
Back at home she knew that her father's business had not been going well. Once a large Japanese export firm with branches all around the world (She herself had been born on a trip to Ethiopia her mother had made, against her husband's wishes), his neglect of it after her mother's death had led to a significant slump in business, and he was deeply in debt.  
  
Then one night a man had called round, a distinguished looking elderly Japanese man with a thick white beard and wearing an expensive suit. He was accompanied by a massive man, bald and wearing a dinner suit that did nothing to disguise his thuggish nature.  
  
The old man and her father hadn't spoken for long, but voices had been raised and she knew that she had been the topic of conversation. At the end of the shouting match, the old man and his companion had strode out, and she had seen her father slumped on the couch with his head in his hands, apparently crying.  
  
A few days later her father had told her that she was not going back to school, but was going to stay with a friend of a friend on an island far away, where she would have exciting adventures. Automatically suspicious when any adult spoke to her like that, she had questioned him, wanting to know where it was, and exactly what she'd be doing. It wasn't until she had asked how long it was to be for, that he had become evasive about that and changed the subject. She knew then that it was likely to be a long term situation.  
  
When she was on the boat, she had turned to wave goodbye to her father, but he had already vanished. They had never talked since that day.  
  
She was relieved when she had finally arrived on the Island. The boat had made many stops to pick up other children her age en route, and she had soon discovered that she was NOT a good sailor. There to greet them all on the jetty was strangely dressed young man. He seemed friendly and open enough, though she thought the metal suit he wore looked a little odd, and the chains he carried around his arms looked VERY heavy.  
  
However, he wore the armour with effortless dignity, and she found herself immediately warming to him.  
  
Albior's whole demeanour inspired trust, which was just as well as over the next few days he made several strange demands of her. The face mask was the weirdest. He explained that it was a rule that all the girls on the island had to wear full face masks ALL the time and never let any boy or man see her bare face EVER. He explained why this was, but she didn't particularly like it, it sounded awfully sexist somehow. Still, the fine mesh eyepieces didn't really inconvenience her that much, and she was determined to make a good impression on Albior.  
  
Then he gathered all the children together and explained about Athena, and her Saints, and the awesome powers they possessed. And he explained that it was his job to help find and train new Saints and she might well be one of them. He told them that their parents agreed that Albior would look after them for the next few years and see how they developed. If they failed or decided not to try for a Cloth then they could either return home or stay with Albior as his guest and pupil for as long as they chose. Life would be hard, but it could well be very rewarding.  
  
Knowing that going home wouldn't solve her problems, she decided to stay and learn what she could. She felt very grown up making such an important decision by herself and Albior seemed pleased with her choice.  
  
One of the first things she did during this time was to make the acquaintance of several of the other new students. Three struck her as being memorable. Two young punks called Spica and Reda immediately got on her wrong side. They were loud swaggering bullies, and she made sure that they quickly learned to leave her alone. They were sore losers, but they knew they were losers, which was close enough for her needs.  
  
The third was altogether different. Shun was the youngest student by far. He was very small, definitely on the puny side and seemed very withdrawn. He was obviously homesick as hell and he kept crying for his big brother and his friends. June had never seen anyone quite as lonely as this boy clearly was. Though Albior never said a word, it became obvious to her that he expected her to help deal with the situation.  
  
She made every effort to talk to him and reassure him. Many nights she "sneaked" in to see him in his quarters "behind Albior's back" (though she KNEW he had seen her at least twice) and they talked long into the early hours of the morning. It seemed to help both of them, but she remained unconvinced Shun would ever be strong enough to last through his training. Still, there was a strength behind the huge green eyes that she glimpsed sometimes, which she wondered if Shun even knew existed. He certainly knew how to persevere.  
  
She made a conscious decision almost straight away that the rule about the face-mask should be relaxed around Shun. If Albior wanted her to reassure a young kid like Shun then there had to be a bit of leeway allowed and there was no way she was doing it behind an immobile metal mask. She knew what the implications were of her taking it off in a boys presence, and she knew trouble discovery would cause, but she felt she had a special, albeit unofficial, dispensation from Albior in this case.  
  
After several months of observing the children, Albior separated them into two groups. He explained to the group she was in that they seemed best suited to try for the Bronze Chameleon Cloth. He explained to them the method by which the Chameleon Cloth would allow it's bearer to find it.  
  
"Other Saints earn their Cloths through straightforward combat, the winner takes the Cloth. Some achieve there's by a single act of focusing their cosmo-energy. My students are different, the Cloths available here require special demands for their bearer, each is different, each is unique. All I can say to you is that the Chameleon Cloth is in a cave within the central mountain of this Island, and whoever is the first to reach it will have earned the right to wear it."  
  
June had been deeply shocked, she had expected rather more than a treasure hunt to be involved in earning a Cloth. It had even sounded quite fun, an exciting way for a girl to spend a few months, but her nature made her cautious. There had to be something Albior wasn't telling them about this.  
  
Of course she had been right. It had taken far, far longer than a few months. Quickly realising that a team effort was NOT the best way to go about earning a single sloth, she and her fellow students split up and searched, only meeting up for the compulsory training sessions, and educational lessons that Albior insisted upon ("A true warrior need not be particularly intelligent, but a wise warrior will make sure he is" as Albior had phrased it).  
  
She learned to mask her emotions and read those in others, even through the steel masks. She recognised that seeming to be too excited about something would be a trigger for others. Gradually she developed a mask far more complete than the one she wore on her face, and she hid behind it constantly, only allowing Shun to see her true face and, even harder for her, her true feelings.  
  
It took her literally _years_ of methodical examination and mapping of the tunnels to work out where the only place that there could be a cave of any size was. Along with the training in marital arts and philosophies Albior had given them, she had learned other skills to help her in her search; mapping unknown territory methodically, how to scale a rock-face without equipment, how to balance on a precarious rock bridge less than an inch across, how to dislocate her limbs voluntarily so she could move through gaps smaller than she was, how to inch through tunnels barely wide enough to hold her. In short, and in retrospect, a full complement of subtle infiltration skills.  
  
And her skill with the whip was nothing short of spectacular. For several months at the start, Albior had trained her in the use of chains as weapons, but when her basically aggressive nature became clear, he had quietly suggested that she might prefer to switch to something else, like the whip. She knew now it was because she had clearly displayed the wrong properties for a potential Andromeda Saint, but at the time it had just seemed like another of his helpful suggestions.  
  
Though the number of students dwindled alarmingly over the years, as they either gave up in disgust, were injured, vanished or just plain died, June kept with it, knowing that she had nothing to return home for. If she could find the Cloth she would be able to do as SHE chose.  
  
When she finally found the entrance to the cave it had nearly killed her there and then. Rocks as big as her head rained down from the roof of the tunnel as she approached the area and would have smashed her beneath them, but she reacted fast enough to use her whip to deflect them for just long enough to get out of their way.  
  
Careful, and long distance, examination of the door led her to deduce the opening mechanism, a precise series of half concealed "keystones" to be struck in a logical sequence. Several weeks of intensive training in the necessary techniques allowed her to use her whip and marital arts to both deflect the falling rocks and strike the correct keystones with lightning speed. She was proud of her achievement, sure that the Cloth would be behind the door, of course it wasn't even that simple....  
  
The cave was huge and filled with candles, thousands of them, covering the floor and the many ledges around the cave. From the ceiling hung dozens of long strands of a gossamer-like material that dangled almost to the floor. She could make out small bells on the ends of them.  
  
And there, at the far end of the cave, sitting in the only pool of shadow in the whole place was a dark block-like shape that she knew had to contain what she had been hunting for years.  
  
As soon as she had started moving across the room she felt air currents, steady for centuries, being disturbed by her very presence, causing some of the candles to gutter and blow out. With each extinguished candle, she could see the chest on it's plinth sink further into the stone plinth it lay on, and she suspected that too many candles blown out would then make the Cloth permanently inaccessible.  
  
And then she brushed against one of the strands, causing the bell to ring faintly. Immediately there came a rumbling noise and the doors to the cave started to close again. She sensed rather than knew that if she were to be stuck in here she would be stuck for good, Cloth or no Cloth, and it took a flying leap to prevent that. She then had to scramble out of the way of yet more rocks.  
  
Now she knew roughly what to expect, she had time to prepare a plan of action. The Chameleon Cloth clearly respected and required stealth and subtlety and so that was how she would approach this chance to win it. Her emotionless mask was harder than ever to maintain, and she lived in dread of someone else finding out about the cave and beating her to HER Cloth.  
  
She practised for weeks, refining methods she had learned to control her every movement and motion with perfect accuracy. She asked Albior to teach her breathing techniques and he willingly showed her, without asking why.  
  
And finally the day dawned when she knew she was ready.  
  
She sought Shun out the night before her attempt. Her "little brother" (She'd long since come to think of him that way, he was quintessential little brother material) had grown taller over the years, of course, but hadn't filled out the way most of the students had done. He still looked far too delicate to ever be a trained fighter.  
  
June had seen him in training many times, and he was still a mystery to her. He never, EVER struck the first blow, and usually tried talking his opponent out of fighting, even when it was clearly a hopeless cause. Though she knew full well he was probably more skilled with his chains than she was with her whip, he was loathe to use them against any living thing. And in any sort of straightforward hand to hand combat he was an utter disaster.  
  
Still he kept on trying and even seemed to win more often than he should, allowing his opponent's own momentum and attack to defeat themselves. More than that, she found she had grown to respect his pacifism, which wasn't based on cowardice as some others, such as Spica and Reda, thought, but on a carefully thought out rationale against violence. He really believed that violence was abhorrent and should always be the last resort (redundant). She didn't agree with that personally, but their arguments had always been good-natured.  
  
She explained her plan of action to him. As not only a friend but a candidate for the Andromeda Cloth she knew she didn't have to worry about him trying to beat her to it (sometimes the depths of her paranoia worried even herself). His first reaction had been to worry about her and try to convince her not to go, but he soon saw she was determined and instead offered suggestions as to techniques she might find useful. There were several that she hadn't actually considered and which struck her as eminently sensible. Shun had been near to tears when she left him.  
  
And so at dawn the next day she had made her way to the cave.  
  
The door, which had first challenged her, now seemed almost laughably easy. The tip of her whip danced across the keystones and struck the rocks falling from the roof between each strike. A graceful rolling movement dodged the remaining falling rocks as she dove into the cave, braking smoothly to prevent any air disturbance within the cave.  
  
It was exactly as it had been when she had first entered, the candles were re-lit and did not seem to have dwindled, sustained by some power she could not understand as yet. With a deep, and VERY slow breath she set out.  
  
Her approach to the plinth took hours, every move was cautious and exact. She crawled and slithered with painful slowness, her individual movements flowing into one long smooth, sequence. Several times she nearly cried out with pain as she lingered too close to a candle flame or had to bend her back into awkward positions for a long time. More than once an itchy nose nearly proved the death of her. She had to listen for upcoming air currents, as by the time she could feel them it would probably be too late to do anything about it.  
  
There were unforeseen hazards too, loose rocks on the floor that might have triggered Athena alone knew what. At one point she had to scale the wall and crawl along it for several feet, clinging like a lizard to the few outcroppings from the smooth surface. The strain on her hands, feet and knees was excruciating. She was thankful she had bound her hair up, otherwise she might have set it on fire.  
  
After what felt like at least six months she neared the plinth. She couldn't waste the concentration to study anything other than her next step, so it wasn't until she was right next to it that she realised what had been troubling her for the last five feet or so. The box on the plinth was... wrong.  
  
She had seen Albior's Cloth chest a couple of times, and this had none of the detailed carving that his had, or the leather carrying straps. It was nothing but a plain silvery metal box with a word carved into the top of it in Greek. Albior had taught her a little, enough to work out the word meant "Behind". She moved to the back of the box, taking another twenty minutes for that alone, but the space behind the plinth was empty too.  
  
It was with a dawning sense of dread that she slowly turned round to face the way she had come. It was so obvious it was unbelievable. There, at the top of the arched doorway of the cave's entrance was a niche, it would barely have been visible from any angle less than halfway across the floor. In the niche she could make out a metal box, lit by candles on either side of it and behind it. Just enough illumination to make clear what it was, at least from this angle.  
  
The Cloth had been hidden in plain sight, less than four feet from where she had been before she had started this whole exercise! She hadn't suspected a thing, everything had been so geared to challenging her to get across the floor that it had been the perfect camouflage for the Chameleon Cloth. She had to stifle an almost hysterical laugh.  
  
And so she started back across the floor, moving just as carefully. She didn't know what disturbing the candle flames would do THIS time, but had no desire to find out. Every muscle in her body ached and she longed to make a random movement, but she knew that could still be fatal.  
  
At last she reached the entrance to the cave again. She had to climb up and around the archway, which was the last thing her throbbing back wanted, and braced herself. She reached up and with both hands seized the chest, pulling it towards her. As she did so, every candle in the cave dimmed somehow, and a violet glow spread out from the chest, filling every corner of the cave.  
  
She did a back-flip to the floor, secure in the inner knowledge that whatever happened now, the perils of the cave were finished. The chest opened and what emerged was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. If one were honest it resembled nothing so much as a bug-eyed, long-tailed lizard cast in deep blue and silver metal, but to her it was the pinnacle of nearly five years hard work. And now it was calling to her.  
  
She spread her arms, dropped her whip and stood tall, releasing a mental command she didn't even know she knew. The Cloth glowed brighter and flew apart, whirling through the air as parts altered slightly and folded in on themselves in strange ways she couldn't find words to describe. The Cloth snapped into place around her with a series of sharp clang-ing noises. She found herself bending and whirling instinctively to meet each part. It was a perfect fit, of course. Lastly the tail slapped itself into her hand.  
  
As, she looked down at herself, she felt suffused with energy unlike any she had known before. She was wearing a pink body-suit that the Cloth must have somehow made out of her normal Clothing. The metal itself was light, warm and seemed to be breathing along with her. It was so flexible and so cunningly crafted that it didn't impede her movement one iota. Even the high heeled boots didn't cause her the balance problems she might have expected.  
  
Looking at the "bug-eyed bustier" she seemed to have been given, she did wonder for a moment what a male warrior would have liked wearing the outfit, especially the high heels. She laughed out loud at the image of Spica in this Cloth. Somewhere within her a new, quiet voice was explaining that allowances would have been made, besides Saints weren't the sort of people who got laughed at, at least not more than once.  
  
For the first time since before her mother had died she allowed herself to experience pure joy. For a few moments she allowed herself to be the young girl she was, rather than the serious student image she had hidden behind. She span on the spot, she punched the air, she actually whooped with delight.  
  
There was a clapping from just beyond the still open doors and she spun round, happiness forgotten, her new whip lashing out almost before she could direct it.  
  
Albior deflected the tip of the whip with his own chain. He leaned casually against the doorway before standing straight, then bowed deeply, the first and only time she would ever see him bow to anyone.  
  
"Somehow I knew it would be you, others came close, but the fire of the cosmo burned brightest within you, no matter how you tried to hide it. Congratulations June, Bronze Chameleon Saint! You have earned your Cloth with skill and grace, and have also learnt the first lesson of the Chameleon Saint; 'Confuse those who seek you, and you have won your first victory'. May your link in the chain be strong. Defend Athena unto death."  
  
"I thank you master, for your training and encouragement. I will do honour by you and Athena in all my actions." The words sprang into her head unbidden.  
  
"I can ask no more, and expect no less, than that."  
  
The formality he had forced on what should have been a joyous occasion was starting to get to her; "Master Albior, I feel so... strong.. so powerful. Like I can do anything." Effortlessly, her sore muscles suddenly not hurting in the slightest, she flicked her wrist and sent her new whip lashing out.  
  
Unlike her early whips, which had been leather, this one was made of coiled metal and she knew it would be able to shatter rocks with its tip. With a cracking noise, the tip struck a candle flame and knocked the flame clean off the candle! She sensed she had struck just below the tip of the wick and separated it from the rest of the candle without disturbing the flame or the candles on either side. She tried again and again, and each time the tip struck with pinpoint accuracy, the whip stretching to exactly the required length each time.  
  
Albior smiled at her. "That is a common feeling on gaining one's Cloth, I have observed. It will fade as you realise your new limitations as well as your new strengths. Now your training REALLY begins. The attack of the Chameleon is strong, but your main strength comes from your subtler powers, your defences. Come, we have much to discuss."  
  
Proudly the Bronze Chameleon Saint accompanied the Silver Cepheus Saint outside. She couldn't wait to show Shun what she had achieved, and if she could rub Spica and Reda's noses in it a little by doing so, well so much the better.  
  
- - - - -  
  
Albior had spoken only the truth, the training she had received from him had been a revelation. The Cloth allowed her to mimic the powers of her namesake.  
  
Even when not using the Cloth's real power she could render herself... not invisible certainly, but just.. less obvious. Unless you were looking for her deliberately you wouldn't notice her, and even if you did you probably wouldn't be able to recall her appearance a minute later.  
  
Albior also taught her to interpret body language, and what he called "blind spot stalking". She had been aware that at times it was possible to get close to someone without them reacting, without triggering their peripheral vision, but normally it was an unconscious action. Now she learned how to do it deliberately, moving in such a way that her movements wouldn't register with anyone, moving within their blind spot until she was almost right on top of them.  
  
Wearing the Cloth was a whole different story, her cosmo could render her truly invisible, which, considering what she looked like wearing the Cloth, was really saying something. She learned to practice in secret since revealing her abilities would render them less useful in combat.  
  
But the study of cosmo and the mysterious Seventh sense occupied most of her time. She learned to sense the cosmo within herself and how to use the Cloth to create her own special defensive techniques. And needless to say, her skills with her new whip were astonishing.  
  
She and Albior became closer than ever, now they had grown from student and teacher to fellow Saints. They spoke for hours about their respective lives and experiences. They had never become lovers, though they had discussed it, now that she was old enough to know her own mind about such things. Both felt that that would have pointlessly complicated their relationship. June, skilled at spotting concealment in others, realised that there was someone else in her sensei's life, though she respected his privacy.  
  
She learned how to pass skills and knowledge onto others. She still felt that Albior's greatest achievement had been to teach her to teach. "A lone link is worthless, a chain has potential" he had said.  
  
And so it had continued for several months. During that time she had also had to watch Shun nearly get himself drowned earning the Andromeda Cloth. She had been against him even trying from the start, but the strength of purpose she had always known he had surfaced and he had beaten the Trial of Andromeda.  
  
Albior's pride in his two students was almost tangible, and he was obviously worried about Shun leaving so soon, but he claimed pressing business and the desire to see his brother again, and from long discussions over the years both June and Albior knew how pointless it was to argue THAT point with Shun.  
  
She had not been present at their final conversation, but she would have had to have been blind not to feel the energy that was released during it's course, the fractured cliff and Albior's Cloth being damaged were also sort of give-aways. Yet she had detected no animosity between them. That had puzzled her for a while, until she worked up the courage to ask Albior himself.  
  
"As a final gesture, the Andromeda Saint released his TRUE power for me to see." Albior's tone was quiet, but she spotted the tell-tale indications of pride in his body language.  
  
"That cosmo energy came from SHUN?!" June had automatically assumed it was Albior's power that had ruptured his own Cloth somehow. She couldn't conceive of Shun releasing THAT much power.  
  
Albior frowned for a moment; "Could you not tell? Of course, I have not yet shown you how to differentiate between cosmo energy signatures in others have I? You have only ever witnessed Shun's and my own, and the historic links of our Cloths make ours similar. Come and I will show you the precise method."  
  
She had not enquired further, realising she was treading on delicate - and frankly worrying - ground, but relieved that Shun and Albior had parted amicably.  
  
And, inevitably, she recalled the day when it had all ended. She had been taking a class along with several of the remaining students. Spica and Reda had appeared wearing the weird distorted Cloths, patterned after Shun and Albior's Cloths, that they had made for themselves. She could, at times, sense something approximating a cosmo signature from them, but it was erratic and unreliable. Albior had made it clear he wanted a quiet word with them afterwards, but still they preened themselves. June was no longer entirely sure they were sane, certainly they had taken defeat at Shun's hands badly.  
  
And then, from nowhere, came devastation in the form of the Gold Scorpio Saint, Milo!  
  
Albior had mentioned the Gold Saints to her, and explained how they outranked him as he outranked her, but there was nothing that could prepare her for witnessing one in action.  
  
His powers had been breathtaking. He had laid waste to the landscape with a glittering golden firestorm, rocks had shattered at his mere passage. Trees had been blown about like matches. His voice had boomed like thunder.  
  
"Albior, I am sent by the Kyoko to execute a traitor."  
  
"Who might you seek here? Our loyalty is unquestioned."  
  
"The Kyoko has named you traitor to Athena and outcast from her ranks. Sentence will be carried out immediately."  
  
Albior had looked nonplussed "I am loyal to Athena now as I have always been. The Kyoko must be mistaken or mad."  
  
"I am not here to argue, I only obey orders."  
  
"And that will be your downfall." Albior's voice dropped towards a whisper, "June, stay back, guard the others as best you can. When this is finished, seek out Shun and make sure he knows what happened. There must be something wrong with the Kyoko, I have had suspicions, but this is the first proof."  
  
What followed was branded into her memory for all time. Albior had never fought better, and it seemed for some time that he was holding his own. Even Milo seemed surprised at the puissance of the Silver Saint. Albior's chains whirled and struck over and over but Milo was moving so fast he left multiple images behind himself and Albior struck at illusions most of the time.  
  
Then, for no reason she could work out at the time, Albior weakened, for only a second perhaps but that was all the time Milo needed. He struck home with a lance of pure golden light that pierced Albior's chest. Albior's cosmo faded from her perceptions as he fell to earth. He did not move again.  
  
Milo didn't even waste time checking the body, he simply vanished via whatever strange means he had used to arrive.  
  
June ran to her mentor but it was clear there was nothing that could be done, he lay broken and still. Strangely, there was a rose beside his body. Strange because June could not remember ever seeing a rose-bush anywhere on the island, and Milo didn't seem to be the type who would go in for such theatrics.  
  
As the other students gathered around their master, she saw tears in several eyes, and felt them in her own. Spica and Reda's expressions were unreadable, but even now they worried June, this pair were capable of anything.  
  
His last words echoed in her ears, and when she finally trusted her voice enough to speak it was to swear a vow.  
  
"I lost Albior today because of the Kyoko, I will stop from Shun from taking the same risks, even if I have to break both his legs to do so".  
  
Giving the other students instructions on what to do with the body, she stood and walked away, and didn't look back.  
  
- - - - -  
  
  
  
She brought herself back to the present reluctantly. A small crowd of students who had heard the rumours and wanted to see her in action, for the last time if nothing else, had gathered.  
  
Ignoring them, she moved into a whip attack procedure that she had worked out for herself. The whip spun and struck the vital points on one of the timeworn statues around the arena; Head, throat, chest, stomach, hand, groin and knees were struck in less than two seconds.  
  
She nodded to one of the students who recognised the sign and nodded. He threw a small stone up in the air. She shattered it into pieces with one strike, then, before the pieces could fall to earth, she reduced it to yet smaller pieces and then practically to dust. As always her whip seemed to do most of the work, but it was her skill guiding it.  
  
She lashed out again as she flicked her wrist from side to side creating what amounted to a solid barrier that nothing could penetrate. So far, given her limited experience fighting for Athena so far, it had served her well.  
  
Albior had sent her to deal with the Bronze Crane Saint, one of his former students who had been involved in a shady deal with Gigar, the Kyoko's dubious second in command, and she had been able to soundly defeat him before whatever he was planning had been put into action.  
  
And now she had dared to challenge a Gold Saint. She knew that she stood little chance, or if she was honest, none at all. The gesture had to be made however. She had bided her time, knowing that Saori would have prevented her if she had known, and her oath to Athena would make the injunction binding. She was surprised that Athena hadn't been able to divine her intentions. It had been almost impossible keeping Shun in the dark too, but the Chameleon Saint was always good at concealing things.  
  
As she saw the light of the sun start to break on the horizon, she stood, offered a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening and headed towards the beach to face her future, however short that might be. Her masks, both within and without, were intact and she would confront destiny as she had everything in her life, on HER terms. 


	3. Breaking Point

In the darkness of his room Milo was sitting cross legged on the floor, his eyes shut, his cosmo glistening around his body and his Cloth Chest. He didn't even turn around but simply spoke aloud.  
  
"You may as well come in. I do know you're there."  
  
Two figures cautiously entered, both were wearing armour, one blue, the other reddish orange. They weren't quite grovelling, but it was a close thing.  
  
"Gold Saint?"  
  
"That should be fairly obvious by now. If you have something to say, say it, don't waste my time."  
  
"We would be of service to you, sir."  
  
A mirthless smile appeared in Milo's face, though he still didn't turn round. "Ah yes, Spica and.... Reda, isn't it? The Starlings."  
  
"Yes honoured sire, it is u.... the what?" Spica's carefully rehearsed obeisance was overcome with curiosity.  
  
"Starlings. Are you not even aware of what you are? Perhaps Albior didn't see it as being worth mentioning."  
  
"No Sire, he told us nothing of such things.. due to... unforeseen circumstances." Spica didn't feel it appropriate to mention it was because of Milo's attack.  
  
Milo gave a deep sigh, "I had not intended to act as a teacher on this trip, but I suppose you should learn from an authoritative source."  
  
"A true Saint of Athena channels their cosmo through a constellation, at it's simplest, the stars they are born under act as a focus. A 'Starling' is usually a failed trainee Saint, who channels such cosmo as they have developed through the focus of a single star, whether they know it or not. Their power levels are minimal, occasionally rising to the power of a Bronze Saint, but at a high cost to their minds. There are always a number in each cycle, though you are amongst the few I have encountered personally."  
  
"Starlings nearly always make their own Cloths, and pattern it after a Bronze Cloth, its a sort of compensation for their innate failure I suppose. The Intense Heat Saint in Sanctuary for example, patterned his after the Bronze Fornax Cloth. Docrates was probably one, though it was hard to tell with the Kyoko's favourites. I must remember to ask Dhoko if that particular trait goes back any further in the Cycles.  
  
"On the other hand, the legendary God Warriors of Asgard always seemed to work quite well with a single star... that might be worth researching at some point."  
  
Spica and Reda exchanged a baffled look, intellectual curiosity was not what they had expected of a deadly warrior.  
  
"We are pleased that such lowly figures as ourselves are deemed worthy of your attention, sire."  
  
"Oh, don't fawn. State your purpose in disturbing me... now!"  
  
"Simply put, you shouldn't sully yourself with dealing with June, you are beyond such matters."  
  
"Allow us to deal with her Sire, and we can ensure you are not disturbed further by her mindless prattling about vengeance."  
  
"All we ask in return is your patronage."  
  
Spice and Reda looked round with some degree of concern as the golden glow spread to fill the room. Even with that warning though, they were unprepared for what followed. One second he was sitting there, the next he was standing, facing them, his cloth flying from it's open box to surround him. Their brains told them he must have moved between the two positions, but their eyes hadn't been fast enough to pick up any movement.  
  
It was the Scorpio Saint who stood in front of them, directing a suddenly elongated fingernail at them.  
  
"It is only out of respect for your Master and his true students that I don't kill you here and now, and frankly I'd be surprised if even they cared."  
  
"Inferior Restriction!"  
  
The pulse of cosmo energy which engulfed them was unlike anything they had ever felt before. They had seen Albior resist the attack of the Scorpio Saint, and had felt the havoc caused by the backwash of their combat, but that was nothing compared to actually being a target of it. Every muscle and fibre in their bodies was totally paralysed, and the worst part was they knew that this barely qualified as a manifestation of his power, the effort required to keep his cosmo from burning brighter must be incredible.  
  
"June has challenged me to honourable combat as is her right. As I understand it the high point of your careers so far has been waylaying the Chameleon Saint and the Andromeda Saint in a sneak attack, trying to curry favour with the former Kyoko. Now you offer me the same.. 'deal'." He practically spat the last word.  
  
"Apart from the fact that I have no doubts June or Shun would have defeated you in moments in fair combat, and that the latter took barely moments to defeat you even whilst unarmoured, I find your entire behaviour repugnant at every level. I would say that you shame your Master, but I think we all knew that already."  
  
He made a small movement with his finger, the slightest muscle twitch, and with a wrenching sound Spica and Reda felt their cloths start to buckle and twist around them. Strangely, however, they felt nothing, the power being directed at them was under such exquisite control that it could rend metal less than half a centimetre away from their skin and not raise so much as a bruise.  
  
The chains they wore around their wrists floated up in front of their faces and they watched in horror as each individual link snapped simultaneously.  
  
Each then felt a light touch on their forehead as the Gold Saint moved faster than they could even contemplate.  
  
"You wear my mark now, so if you have learned any wisdom at all in your life you will leave this Isle and never return. The world is large, lose yourself in it, for if you come to my attention again be assured that I will wipe you from the it's face."  
  
With a dismissive flick, the two figures, looking much the worse for wear, were hurled out onto the cold sand.  
  
They looked at each other, shaking with pure terror, each noting that the other had a new small scar on their foreheads in the shape of an exotic M with a pointed flourish; the sign of Scorpio. Without a word they fled towards the mountains.  
  
In the tent Milo turned again, his cloth flew apart, returning to it's representational form and enclosing itself within its armour chest. He resumed his cross-legged position on the floor as if nothing had happened. Only the two crumpled lumps of metal on the floor, one blue, one reddish orange, bore witness to the events.  
  
Milo turned back to his contemplation; Athena, hear my prayer. I swore my life to your service before you were even born. I have followed my orders, and maintained your honour. I followed the misguided orders of the false Kyoko thinking he spoke your will. At his command I came here to slay a valiant and noble Saint, as loyal to you as myself. I thought I had done so, though I find that even that tainted honour was further sullied by the actions of my brother Saint Aphrodite.  
  
Now I must face one of Albior's students in combat and kill her. Give me guidance on what I should do. She seeks revenge for a killing I neither wanted nor take pride in. I am the Scorpio Saint, doubt has never entered my mind, ever. But all things change and now I seek your wisdom.  
  
There came a sound then, not one that could be heard by the ears but by the soul; the faintest of music's, a song of breathtaking beauty. It had no words, but Milo could hear the meaning of the song. He bowed his head, not many people can claim to have been communicated with directly by their deity, but the Saints of Athena were rather more fortunate than most in that regard. The problem was that, as a Goddess of Wisdom, her messages were rarely easy to take and often of a nature that unsettled the recipient.  
  
If that is that truly your wish Athena? ... I know the choice must be mine. ... I shall consider your divine words, Athena.  
  
The night passed and the figure in the tent did not move, not even once.  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
It was just before dawn, and the parties met at the training grounds, the waves breaking on the beach nearby.  
  
The atmosphere was calm, the last chill wind of the night blowing off the sea. The remaining students were gathered at a respectful, and understandably cautious, distance. Spica and Reda were conspicuous by their absence, but no one seemed too bothered. A couple of rumours were circulating about what had happened to them, that had brought a vindictive smile to the lips of many students with long memories and old bruises.  
  
One of the older students, Sybil, came forward and stood directly between them, she was clearly nervous as hell being in the presence of the armoured combatants, but did a good job of covering it as she recited the rules of the combat.  
  
"When the first rays of the sun break over the horizon, the fight shall commence. The weak link is the first to break. Let the chain be reforged and strengthened by this combat."  
  
Milo nodded and then simply stood, magnificent in his cloth, golden light sparkling around the edges of the metal. He was immobile as a statue, only his cloak swirled slightly.  
  
June was also silent and still as she focused her attention to the coming battle. Her cosmo aura flared up around her, glowing faintly violet, purple sparks highlighting her cloth and travelling down the length of her whip.  
  
The sun broke over the horizon sending light streaming onto the amphitheatre.  
  
Milo remained motionless.  
  
June started to run across the arena, her whip coiled in her hand. As she leapt into the air her cosmo flared down the length of the cord as she shouted..  
  
"Chameleon Tongue Lash!".  
  
Like her namesakes tongue, her whip lashed out, but not once, but a dozen times, a hundred times, her wrist sending it backwards and forwards, and up and down, strafing her target. There was a peculiar echoing/cracking sound as whip broke the sound barrier again and again.  
  
There was a flurry of sparks as the whip struck the Gold Saints aura, but it didn't penetrate. Milo didn't even flinch.  
  
She didn't pause in her motion as she landed, spinning around on her heel, her whip returning to its coiled position in her hand as if of it's own volition. She started another run up towards Milo, this time from behind as he hadn't turned round. She threw herself high into the air somersaulting gracefully, yet still somehow managing to lash out again, admittedly with the same lack of success.  
  
Spinning round just before she hit the ground she landed facing Milo again.  
  
Obviously preparing for an attack, she struck an odd pose, her whip hand held high over her head. A gentle rolling motion of her wrist sent the length of the whipcord spinning lazily around her body.  
  
"Chameleon Fade Defence!"  
  
To the onlookers, the glow around June intensified, but did so in a most peculiar manner. The violet light flared along the length of the whip and then went beyond violet. As the fiery energy of her cosmo spiralled around her it didn't illuminate her, it concealed her. With a final heat haze flicker she vanished completely from view.  
  
The onlookers were amazed, they had never seen June engage in actual full- blown combat before, and this was most unexpected, she'd always been secretive about her training.  
  
But even faced with this, Milo did not move.  
  
She appeared again in a totally different part of the arena, just long enough to attack. "Tongue Lash!" she shouted again, before fading from view again. The whip penetrated the field around Milo this time, and "spang"-ed off his breastplate.  
  
At last Milo moved, though not in a way anyone expected. He clapped.  
  
"Bravo!" he called with no trace of sarcasm, "Truly a remarkable cosmo, Chameleon Saint! From the legends I had heard I expected you to be able to hide from five senses, but from the seventh sense too?"  
  
"You aren't just masking your cosmo from my perception. I would notice the blank spot as much as the aura. You're hiding your cosmo within mine! Shifting your aura to be in synch with my own. Brilliant!"  
  
June blinked out of nowhere and released another attack whilst apparently in mid somersault. This time she struck him on the forearm.  
  
"And my cosmo aura will not react against it's own energy, so it doesn't try and block your blows."  
  
Twice more she struck, but still Milo remained infuriatingly still. Eventually June dropped back into perception, her cosmo dissipating slightly, but still making her glow;  
  
"What are you waiting for dammit? I challenged you, fight me."  
  
There was a whirring sound and a length of chain tipped with a metal ring snaked out to encircle June's whip hand, and another, this one tipped with an arrow-like head, struck the sand in front of Milo.  
  
"Stop this right now, or you both answer to me."  
  
Shun stood on top of the nearby cliff, wearing his new Cloth.  
  
Though seething at being interrupted June was surprised by the authority in his voice, this was Shun for heaven's sake, the closest thing to a little brother she had, and here he was issuing orders like a master, and she found herself almost automatically obeying. It must be something to do with being Athena's protector.  
  
"The last thing I want is for the first person I fight in my new Cloth to be you June, but someone had better explain what is happening to me... now!"  
  
"This is a matter of honour, Shun. I challenged Milo according to the ancient rite, you cannot interfere."  
  
"She speaks the truth Shun, this was her choice, and I could not dissuade her. Retract your chains, this is not your concern."  
  
As quickly as it had appeared, the authoritative tone was gone from Shun's voice "Both of you, please stop this, what is to be gained?"  
  
"Vengeance" hissed June.  
  
"Justice" said Milo. "I swear by Athena that I have been instructed to take this action." His eyes were flat, displaying total conviction.  
  
"But I can't just let this happen?" Shun was pleading now, though his hands retained their grip on the chains. "I've seen my friends risk their lives to achieve a worthy goal, but this is just... pointless and wasteful."  
  
"Perhaps it is Shun, if you truly are my friend you will let what has to happen, happen. You must let me continue." June's voice was utterly determined.  
  
Shun looked from Milo's face to June's mask and back, clearly torn. He'd seen such behaviour from Ikki, he'd even indulged in it himself on a couple of occasions (though he hoped with better justification) and knew it was pointless to argue further, but he had to make one last effort, at shaming them if nothing else.  
  
"Fine, but don't expect me to stand and watch. I've just spent the night remembering one lost friend, I won't lose another." With practised arm motions he recalled both chains, then turned his back on the two protagonists and walked away.  
  
He hoped that he might have heard June call him back, but there was no sound. Once he was out of sight his shoulders slumped and he sat down on a nearby rock, which had clearly flattened one of the accommodation huts earlier. His head bowed and he waited for the inevitable. He wanted to go back and see the result, but he was sick to the stomach of fighting and if he was being honest, scared at seeing what might happen to June. He'd watched as his brother had apparently been killed, on more than one occasion, he could not watch that happen to June. His enhanced senses would let him know when it was over.  
  
Back at the beach, June and Milo faced each other again. June poised and ready to leap, her cosmo building up around her again. Milo as impassive as before.  
  
"Well Milo, when will you retaliate?"  
  
"When I am ready."  
  
What followed was almost a rerun of the earlier combat. June dropping in and out of sight only long enough to lash out again with her whip at the impassive Saint.  
  
Finally, breathing heavily, June dropped back into full sight. Her tone was now almost mocking.  
  
"What is keeping you Gold Saint? Are you so worried about being defeated by another Bronze Saint? When will you rise to my challenge?"  
  
Finally Milo responded.  
  
"Yes, you did challenge me, June and I accepted, but I don't recall anything about me saying WHEN I would retaliate. That is up to me to decide I think. And I decide not to fight you now.". His tone was infuriatingly calm.  
  
June almost stumbled at this, confusion taking precedence over anger in her tone. "What? The rules of combat make no such allowance."  
  
"Perhaps, but I was listening to the rules of the challenge and they don't make it mandatory either."  
  
"This is not the time for semantics, Scorpio Saint! Fight!"  
  
"June, think about it, I could lay waste to this entire arena with less effort than it takes talking to you now. You have seen my abilities, you know what I am capable of. If I am choosing not to fight you it is for a good reason."  
  
"And what possible reason could you have? You killed Albior with less provocation."  
  
"Exactly! I did not want this confrontation June, I have innocent blood on my hands already thanks to the Kyoko. I prayed to Athena to give me guidance in this confrontation, and so she did. Her words were as one might expect of a goddess of wisdom."  
  
"In your actions you have shown honour and duty to your master, you were prepared to give up your life in a combat you knew you could not win. Athena respects that and considers it sufficient. It is said that facing a Gold Saint by choice is tantamount to suicide, but that did not deter you. I know that, Athena knows that and Albior knows that."  
  
"Don't you mention his name like that, you can't know what he thought."  
  
"He was a warrior, I am a warrior, ultimately we all have the same thoughts. Albior, me, you too."  
  
For the first time in longer than she could think about, June could feel her internal mask cracking. The infuriating, smug, arrogant, gold plated, son of a... Her anger was building up inside her to a degree that was almost frightening in itself.  
  
She could feel her cosmo burning brighter than ever before. There was no way that she was going to let herself go down without a fight, and this.., she struggled for a minute to find words and gave up, she had enough on her mind. She dropped her whip, the way her cosmo was building up it would only get in the way.  
  
"Chameleon Ultimate Strike!". A purple-tinged haze rippled across her body as she launched herself into the attack, vanishing from sight.  
  
Thought she could not see it for herself, she knew that her cosmo field was now in absolutely perfect synchronisation with Milo's. She had never been able to do this without using her whip as a focusing tool before, but now she knew she could repeat the action any time she needed, provided she lived through the next few seconds.  
  
Leading with her right foot, she channelled her entire momentum into the heel of her right boot (it was at times like this she appreciated spike heels). She collided with Milo's left forearm. The impact was absolute, as close as she had ever come to the old saw about the irresistible force and the immovable object.  
  
All her cosmo, all the kinetic force she could generate was channelled into that impact. She dropped like a stone, her cosmo drained, her forward motion completely gone and her visibility restored.  
  
Milo actually took a step back, staggered slightly, but he was unharmed, as deep down June had known would be the case. Completely exhausted, she wasn't sure whether to curse him or faint from surprise that he had even noticed her assault.  
  
He looked down at her and spoke with a calm finality. "We _are_ finished now June, this combat is over. Does the referee agree honour has been satisfied in this matter."  
  
Still standing on the outskirts of the arena Sybil looked from one combatant to the other before nodding. She was not going to argue with Milo at this stage in proceedings. Besides that, she felt in her heart that this _was_ over, for a reason she couldn't quite place, and why was her head suddenly filled with images of a purple haired girl?  
  
Still lying on the ground June came to same conclusion, one way or another, the fight was over, unless Milo chose to press an attack now...  
  
She stopped herself, she knew that Milo would not do that, whatever she may have thought of him it was not his style to kill a defenceless opponent.  
  
Suddenly, a whole range of emotions hit her simultaneously, feelings that had been dammed up inside her for weeks let loose. Regret, hate, mourning, loss, frustration.. all the feelings Shun had always been open about expressing but which she had kept repressed, hidden behind her too perfect camouflage for too long.  
  
Silently June let the first proper tears she had shed in years fall. Albior _was_ gone, but it hadn't been Milo who had killed him, it hadn't even been Aphrodite, but the Kyoko, and he would never hurt anyone again, and there was nothing she could do about any of it, no matter who she fought.  
  
Milo's voice softened as he knelt beside her, though he didn't presume to touch her, that would have been condescending.  
  
"Wisdom is never gained painlessly June. You fought well, and brought your master honour. Now you must learn to try and honour him, not by dying needlessly, but by living up to his example for as long as you can."  
  
After another half minute or so, she got to her feet unaided, and stood with her back straight. Tears could be seen running out of the bottom of her mask. Unashamed in front of a Gold Saint, but making sure her back was to the assembled students, she took her mask off. With little regard to ceremony she wiped her nose on the back of her hand and then wiped her eyes, before replacing the mask. She reassumed some of her normal demeanour.  
  
"I'll bet whoever came up with this mask idea never thought about what to do with them if you catch a cold."  
  
"You would show me your true face? But that means..."  
  
"I know what it means Milo, I either have to marry you or kill you. I have no interest in the former, and I've already tried the latter. What do you have to worry about?"  
  
Milo finally smiled, he was sure now she was as strong emotionally as she was physically, and would recover fully from this episode. It seemed time to tell her the rest of what he knew.  
  
"Know this, June. Athena has plans for the Chameleon Saint, though she would not tell me what they are. This combat was a test from her for both of us, that is why she let it happen. You proved your devotion to a cause you believed in and were willing to die for, despite it's apparent futility. For my part I had to prove I would forfeit my pride and face dishonour if I knew in my soul that a death was uncalled for."  
  
"As a Gold Saint I have always taken it as a given that any challenge must be answered with the maximum force I could summon, but Athena has shown me this is not always the case. She is the Goddess of Just War, and I have to learn to make value judgements rather than blindly follow orders without even thinking about them. That is why Seiya and his friends are her chosen protectors rather than me, they have kept in touch with the real world, whereas I have not."  
  
"Don't get me wrong, I will still obey Athena in all her commands, but I will start to question what I am doing and seek a satisfactory purpose to my actions. Only in this way can I start to be a true Saint of Athena, rather than a Saint of the Kyoko."  
  
"Albior was correct, but his logic was incomplete; A chain by itself is not sufficient, it must have a linchpin to secure it. You Bronze Saints are the links, we Gold Saints are the linchpins, the tethers."  
  
June could tell how difficult it must have been for Milo to talk like this, especially to a Bronze Saint.  
  
Both of them walked out of the arena, June stopping only to pick up her whip. They made sure, for the sake of form, that they both stepped out of the ring at exactly the same moment.  
  
"It seems the right way to do it, don't you think? I believe _both_ our chains have been tempered here, Milo. Albior would be doubly pleased."  
  
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'd better go and give Shun the good news that I'm not dead yet."  
  
Her final words bore a faint note of pride, "By the way, don't write me off yet, Milo Scorpio Saint, the Chameleon Saint would not be foolish enough to waste all her skills on one combat, even one she thought would be her last." She walked off, head held high.  
  
Milo watched her go, Athena had told him that he shouldn't tell June he had been able to sense her the whole time of the fight, nor that he had slightly moved his arm to intercept her last attack. Her defence would have been perfect against anyone other than a Gold Saint, and there had been a moment at the end there when he couldn't be absolutely sure where she was himself, which was more than a little startling. Still, her powers were only really starting to develop, though at a rate he hadn't imagined possible. Not on a par with Shun and his friends certainly, but far more than would normally have been expected. Perhaps she had been right about the Bronze Saints of this cycle.  
  
He removed the armour from his forearm, where the faint welt of a bruise was forming. An actual _bruise_! "Observing your development should prove most interesting, June. Most interesting indeed", but his voice was almost a whisper. He turned back towards his quarters.  
  
Just over the crest of the ridge there had been a brief but joyful reunion.  
  
Shun wondered at just how June could have managed to stagger a Gold Saint, but then caught himself, hadn't the Silver and Gold Saints said much the same about he and his friends? There was clearly more to June than he had suspected. He felt glad about that.  
  
"You don't mind I didn't stay to watch?"  
  
"Like that wasn't the most obvious psychological ploy I've seen in a while, Shun. Besides, I didn't want you to see it, there's nothing worthwhile about seeing a friend die in front of you, take it from me."  
  
"There isn't that much to be said for seeing enemies die in front of you either, take that from me."  
  
A moment of awkward silence stretched between them as each realised how much the other had changed in the time they had known each other;  
  
June saw the little green haired little boy who hated violence who had become a warrior worthy of legend, but who must be sick to his soul with it.  
  
Shun saw the big sister who had always been there for him, but who had become a stranger to him of late. She had come through this latest challenge a stronger person by finally admitting she had limitations.  
  
Both started to talk at the same time, but before either could get a coherent sentence out, they were interrupted by a flash of light ahead of them. Both thought it might be Milo again but when they looked up it was a stranger.  
  
A new figure stood on the hillside, green armour glinting in the sun. From this angle it was impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman though there seemed to be a faceplate.  
  
The tone and pitch of the voice gave nothing away either, "I am Narcissus, Silver Cassiopeia Saint. In Athena's name I challenge you!"  
  
~Fin~  
  
...of "Chain Links", at any rate.... To be continued in "Interludes and Reflections" 


End file.
